


No Homo (Okay, Maybe a Little Bit Homo)

by Thette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grumpy Castiel, Happy AU where season 9 never happened, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pretending to Be Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a cult in the Ozarks that targets gay men. Dean and Cas act as bait by pretending to be a couple.</p><p>Takes place in an alternative timeline, where season 9 never happened. Dean, Sam, Cas and Kevin all live in the bunker (though Kevin doesn't show up in this fic). Sam is healthy, Cas is human, and Crowley is still a prisoner in the dungeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Homo (Okay, Maybe a Little Bit Homo)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsofspike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/gifts).



> For dreamsofspike in the 2013 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Prompt: Human!Cas and Dean are working a case in which they have to pose as a couple in a bar. (Maybe the monster is singling out gay couples or something). They are briefly separated (like one goes to the restroom or something) and when Dean sees Cas again a couple minutes later, Cas is being harassed by several guys. They're pushing him around, threatening him, and he's scared and shaken. Dean kicks their asses and takes Cas back to the motel and takes care of him. :)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Likes: dominant Dean, dark!Dean - but I also like tender, strong, protective Dean, too, depending on the story ;) ... LOADS of hurt/comfort, Team Free Will (if Sam is involved in any way, I'm totally cool with that, in any of these ideas), [...] LOVE human!Cas being overwhelmed by emotions he can't control so easily anymore, and Dean being all in control and strong and comforting_
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: Homophobia, including internalized homophobia from Dean; involuntary consumption of a mind-altering substance (no sexual activity while under the influence, but affectionate caretaking and cuddling occurs); violence on the same level as the show, including killing humans in self-defence; misogynistic and homophobic language on the same level as the show; gross misrepresentation of Gnosticism. Cas is pretty much a damsel in distress in this fic.

"Yup. We get it, don't worry. Yeah. Yeah. OK, thanks. We will." Sam hung up the phone. "That was Garth. There's a pretty gruesome serial killer in the Ozarks, and we're the closest hunters."

 "Any reason to think it's our department?" Dean asked.

 "Apparently, they're going after gay couples. Only men, so far."

 "Homophobic hicks?"

 "If so, they're homophobic hicks with a surprising knowledge of demon summoning rituals. Look at the photos of the crime scene he sent me." The photos were, as expected, pretty gruesome. The victims had been removed, but the sigils painted on the walls and the chalices filled with blood were still there. Sam printed them out.

 "How the hell does Garth even get these things in the first place?"

 "Better not to ask," Sam said. "I think he has some pretty good connections inside law enforcement, but I wouldn't put it past him to just hack into their files. So, how do you think we should play this?"

 "I dunno. Show up at the scene, ask some questions, research, gank the monster? What's wrong with the usual drill?" Dean frowned at his brother, who had started searching something on his laptop. "Or is there anything in particular you think is special about this?"

 "I'm just saying, maybe we could do this another way. How about baiting them? There can't be all that many openly gay men out there."

 "I don't know about that, have you seen Brokeback Mountain?" Sam snorted.

 "That was the Big Horn Mountains, not the Ozarks."

 "When did you become the expert on gay mountains?" Sam gave him a spectacular bitchface in reply. He really should be saving those for posterity. Maybe even catalog them. A whole library in the bunker, devoted to the Art of Bitchface, As Seen in Subject A, Sam Winchester. An art exhibition. With those mini sandwiches and some bubbly wine. "Are you seriously suggesting that we play gay for this? Never thought I'd hear you say that."

 "Not _we_ as in you and I. _You_ , as in you and Cas. Don't worry, I'll have your back."

 "Whoa. Where did that come from? Why can't you play gay with Cas? You're the one who's a girl on the inside."

 "Dean."

 "Sam."

 "When was the last time you heard an angel or a demon call Cas my boyfriend, huh? Whatever you two have going on, and I really don't want any details, thank you very much, it shows. You might not be his boyfriend, but you sure can play it."

 Dean stormed off, not wanting to continue the conversation. His steps led him towards the dungeon. Could never hurt to ask Crowley if he recognized the sigils.

 "Hello, pretty boy. To what do I owe the honor?"

 "I'm just here to pick your brain. Demon summoning, probably." He threw the printed pictures onto the table. "They're only killing gay couples. Sigils look like this. Anything you know anything about?"

 "Obviously, I'm a bit out of the loop. Let me walk around for a bit, see if I can think of anything." Dean huffed, but released the demon, not letting his grip on Ruby's knife falter. "What makes this personal? You worried about the sweet little angel's arse?"

 "It's not personal."

 "You sure? Because I bet the two of you have been screwing like bunnies. I bet you want me out of here, so you can use the dungeon for its intended purpose."

 "Okay, if you don't have anything to contribute, back you go in the chair."

 "I didn't say that, now did I? These symbols, they're not demonic. They're Gnostic." Dean frowned. "Gnostic? You know, heretics of the early Christian Church? Oh, what am I even doing? Bring Moose. At least _he_ won't drool on the floor." After securing Crowley to the chair, Dean brought Sam down with him.

 "Yada, yada, blah, blah. You've got a cult on your hands. They're using Gnostic symbols. From what I can see, there's a whole lot of crap about purity, and preparing their souls for the Messiah. Doesn't say if they're actually planning on bringing Jesus back. That would be fun, though, don't you think? What would Michael and Lucifer say to that?" Sam and Dean made faces at him in sync. "Jeesh, take all my enjoyment out of this. Now that I've given you what you want, how about you give me a little something?" Sam shrugged, and brought out a coloring book. "Seriously? Seriously?"

 "Take it or leave it, king Ralph," Dean said.

 

***

 

"So, Cas, want to come along on a hunt?" Dean asked, leaning on the doorpost to Cas' room. "We're gonna take out a Gnostic cult."

 "Ah, yes, I remember the Gnostics. Peaceful, unless you got in the way of their religion."

 "And apparently, really not into gay folks." Cas snorted. "What?"

 "I've never seen so many men engaging in intercourse as I saw among the Gnostics. At least, not until San Fransisco."

 "Cas, that's freaking creepy."

 "I'm sorry, did you not want my experience on this case?" God, Cas could get sarcastic when he wanted to. Dean lifted his hands in apology.

 "Hey, you know I want you with me on the hunt. Just... a bit less detailed, okay? Really, _really_ don't want to know about what you've been seeing when you've been out angel creeping." He cleared his throat. "Also, Sam wants us to act as bait," he said quickly.

 "Bait?"

 "Yeah. You and me, acting as a couple. Don't know where, don't think they have too many gay bars in the Ozarks."

 "Eureka Springs, Arkansas, have a sizable gay population, and a great night life. At least, that's what the waitress at the Biggersson's told me."

 "Hey, Sammy," Dean shouted out the door, "where exactly were those killings?"

 "Four in Eureka Springs, two in Berryville and two in Table Rock, Missouri," Sam shouted back from the war room.

 "Why the hell would she tell you that?" Dean asked.

 Castiel looked confused. "I really don't know. I talked to a lot of waitresses during my months as a fugitive. They were all very kind and forthcoming with information about all kinds of things." Oh, man. They must've thought Cas was gay. He really couldn't see it. Sure, he was good looking, no doubt about it. You know, with those eyes that at any point could focus on you so completely that nothing else seemed to matter, and with that ruffled hair. He did look nice in a suit, too. "Dean?" Cas asked, without breaking the stare. How long had they stared at each other? God only knows.

 "Yeah, get your stuff packed and let's go."

 

***

 

The gay bar in Eureka Springs was really nothing special. There was a rainbow flag draped over one wall, but otherwise, it could have been the Roadhouse or any other hunter bar. Dean ordered one beer for himself and one for Cas, and they settled in.

 "New in town?" the bartender asked, as he flipped the cap off their bottles.

 "Roadtrip, just passing through."

 "Huh. Going anywhere special?"

 "Nah, just taking my car and my man, and driving around the backcountry. Got nowhere to be for one more week." They had come up with that story to make them more vulnerable, and they were both dressed down in loose jeans and big hoodies, trying to look out of shape. It was hard to make Cas lose the "I'm an angel of the Lord" ramrod straight posture, but eventually, Dean had taught him how to relax a bit. The alcohol helped, of course. Cas had just had one beer with lunch, but he was still a little bit buzzed. It was kind of cute, really. Cas took a large swig from his bottle.

 "Dean," Cas said, clinking their bottles together and leaning in. Nobody had warned him that Cas was a clingy drunk. Normally, he'd try to reinforce the personal space rules, but they were supposed to look like a couple. So, that meant playing along.

 "Yeah, babe?" He stroked Cas' arm, and got a drunk smile in return. "Lightweight," Dean explained to the bartender with a jerk of the head in Cas' direction. The bartender just huffed a barely-there laugh. "Don't make me carry you back to the car," he told his supposed boyfriend.

 "I can't make you do anything," Cas complained as he laid his head on Dean's shoulder. He was way more than a little buzzed. Dean would have complained, but it was actually kind of nice. Cas' wild hair tickled his neck, and he stroked his cheek along Dean's shoulder. He smelled of old books and Sam's girly shampoo.

 "Dude, you're like a cat when you get drunk. Bet you actually purr."

 "Why don't you scratch me behind my ears and find out?" Dean shook his head, but did as he was asked. For the record, Cas didn't purr, but he gave it his best try. Yeah, enough of this girly shit.

 "I'm gonna go take a leak." Cas just smiled at him with slightly unfocused eyes, and tried to get back into an upright position.

 When he got back, Cas wasn't there. "Hey, did you see where he went?" he asked the bartender.

 "Yeah, he went back out. Said something about having left something in the car. Hope you've got the keys, 'cause I wouldn't want him on the road."

 Dean checked the Impala out back. Sam just looked at him from the shotgun seat, shrugged and made that sturgeon face of his. Son of a bitch! Dean made the signal for danger, ran back in, jumped behind the bar, and grabbed the bartender by the neck.

 "You tell me where he is, douchebag!" The smarmy bastard just grinned. "Where the hell is my boyfriend?" It was the last thing he could remember before something hit the back of his head, and everything went dark.

 

***

 

Dean woke up with the mother of all headaches. He was blindfolded and his shoulders hurt. Apparently because his wrists and elbows were tied behind his back. Whoever these guys were, they knew what they were doing. He couldn't even try to wriggle out of the ropes without dislocating his shoulder. He legs were numb, and he was kneeling, ankles tied together under him, and knees tied to something in between... Something soft. "Cas?" He got a groan in reply from the lump between his legs. "Hey, Cas, you okay?" No verbal reply. "Cas?!" Someone slapped him.

 "Shut up." The voice was gruff, and it wasn't the bartender. He tried listening over the ringing in his ears and the pounding headache. At least one other person in the room, probably more. Fuck. Where the hell was Sammy? A chanting started, in a language he didn't recognize. Not Latin, not Greek, not Enochian, and it was four or maybe more voices. Someone cut the arms off his hoodie with a machete-like knife, but kept his skin intact. Hell to the no! When the chanting figure came close again, this time trying to cut his jeans off, he rose and headbutted his assailant. If it hadn't been for Cas, he'd have fallen over. As it was, he landed back in a kneeling position, with nothing to cushion the fall. The man fell behind him with a hard thump. The chanting stopped.

 "Yeah, come on, you bastards! I can take you out even when I'm bound!" Two thuds and the sleek sound of a knife over flesh was heard behind him. Someone took hold of his hair, stretched his neck and laid the brutal knife against his jugular vein.

 "One more step, and the twink gets it."

 "Easy, there," Sam said, dropping his knife to the floor with a clank. "No need to get violent." Dean could hear Sam's footsteps, slowly approaching in a sideways fashion. "We don't mean you any ill." This was his talk-down-the-jumper voice, the one that could get him out of all sorts of trouble. The knife relaxed minutely. Dean nodded quickly, and a gunshot rang out. The man holding the knife to his throat slumped, and Dean could feel him bleeding all over his back.

 "Sam, get us out of here!"

 "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Before he knew it, his brother's hands were at the knots behind his back, slicing them open. Sam removed the blindfold, and he could see the cult for the first time.

 "Can you believe they're wearing monk robes? It's like a goddamn movie." Sam laughed. Cas was still not conscious. "Help me get him into the car." Together they carried him out, trying not to jostle him.

 "Dean?" Cas asked groggily, in a moment of lucidity.

 "Yeah, babe. We got them."

 

***

 

Cas snored in the backseat, while Sam made a call. "Shots fired, I heard them from Magnetic Drive. My name? Yes, my name is..." He hung up. "Let's get the hell out of here. And no, I'm driving. Gimme the keys. You just had a concussion, Dean."

 "Fine." He handed the keys over, but something felt wrong about leaving Cas alone. "I'll sit in the back, just to make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit or something."

 "Whatever you say, Dean," Sam said.

 Dean got in, and let Cas rest curled up with his head on his lap. He held a hand over his chest, just to keep him in place and make sure he didn't stop breathing. "You did good, Sam."

 "Yeah, don't mention it. Wouldn't have gotten three of them like that unless you had caused a distraction."

 "I was pretty badass, yeah. My ear's still ringing, though. Glad you shot him, but damn..."

 "Heh. We're gonna be deaf from the shots long before we're old enough to stop hunting."

 "D'ya think we can teach the monsters to sign?" In the rear view mirror, he could see Sam's huge grin.

 

***

 

By the time Sam pulled into a motel parking lot outside of Joplin, Missouri, Cas was mostly awake, but still chose to lay on Dean's lap. "Normally, I'd just have gone straight back home, it's just another five hours or so. But I'm kind of worried about Cas. We'll stay here overnight." He went to book their room, and came back with two keys. "You two can share. Unless you want me to take care of Cas?"

 Having the grumpy former angel so close had been unexpectedly pleasant. "Nah, I'll handle this. You can get some sleep."

 "I don't want to hear you having loud gay sex!" Sam shouted as he left for room #6.

 "Bitch," Dean murmured under his breath. "Come on, let's get you comfy on a real bed. You like that, don't you? A real bed, with mystery stains and runaway springs poking in your back." (He mentally sang that last bit to Runaway Train.) Yeah, his own room and the memory foam mattress had spoiled him. With a bit of nudging, Cas followed him into room #7. "Hey, easy there, big boy, let's get you clean first. We don't want to smell like a slaughterhouse, right?"

 "You smell," Cas slurred.

 "You're not the only one who needs a shower. Can you do it alone?" He'd been living with Sam for twenty-five years, and he'd still never understand how someone could pack so much sarcasm into a single head tilt and eyebrow... thing. Clearly, there were classes. How to Sass Dean Winchester 101. (Nah, much too advanced for a 100-level course.) "Fine, get undressed."

 That, Cas could do. He dropped the bloodied jeans and hoodie on the floor and zombie-walked into the bathroom. Dean followed, leaving most of his own torn clothes on the way. In the bathroom, the gray t-shirt and the worn white boxers were on the toilet seat. Cas was already in the shower, and the water was running. "You doing okay in there?"

 "Not particularly, no." There was no helping this, was there? He pulled the shower curtain away. Cas was leaning with his forehead against the wall, just standing there while the weak drizzle of water hit his shoulders.

 "Okay, buddy, stand up. Hold my shoulders if you can't stand for yourself." His own underwear was soaked. He really should have taken those off. "Good, let's get you soaped up. I hope you can do it on your own." With one hand and a lot of encouragement, Cas managed to get soaped up and rinsed, but Dean could see that he would need more help with his hair. "You can lay your head on my shoulder if you want." Cas did, heavily, and Dean lathered shampoo into his hair. Dean's shoulders and arms ached, but he couldn't leave Cas' hair matted with blood and gore. "You're so gonna repay me for this later."

 "Dean. I pulled your soul out of hell and created your body from dirt and bones. I don't think washing my hair is going to come close to getting us even." Dean couldn't help laughing, and pressing the naked man to his chest.

 "I'm not gonna repeat, if that's what you're thinking," he said as he gently rinsed the shampoo from Cas' hair.

 "That's what the label says," Cas replied with a tiny laugh.

 "Feeling better?" At the barely noticeable nod, he let go of his friend and bundled him up in a threadbare towel. "There you go. Get dressed, go to bed, and I'll be with you in a few minutes." His own shower was quick and effective (he missed the bunker's water pressure so much), and he downed a couple of pain killers on the way out. Cas, who always was cold, had taken the blankets from both beds. "Hey, genius, what about me?" The only reply was that the corner of the blanket pile lifted a little.

 "You're warm." It felt natural to get into bed with Cas. He might still be drugged, but he was slowly coming back to himself. And he needed someone to look after him, make sure that he didn't fall asleep on his back and choke, and that he kept breathing. The shared body heat was a bonus, because the motel room was freezing. He snuggled up against Cas' back. (Shut up, his inner voice protested. Dean Winchester does not snuggle.) Well, at least he was the big spoon.

 "Dean?" Cas asked sleepily.

 "Mhm?" His arm fit perfectly around Cas' chest, and the gentle rise and fall of Cas' breaths were going to lull him to sleep soon.

 "Will you hold me in the morning?"

 "Shut up," he said, and pressed his face into the space between his friend's shoulders. If his lips happened to touch skin, it was nobody's business but theirs.

 

***

 

When Dean woke up, his morning wood was poking into the crack of Cas' ass. He tried to move backwards, but Cas followed him and wiggled. He groaned, incredibly aroused. One could deny the attraction to one's best friend for pretty long, but this? This was far beyond any "no homo" claims. He let his arm travel downwards, and the edge of his little finger touched the tip of Cas' boner. Nope, not "like a brother" at all.

 "Good morning, Dean. I feel much better now," Cas said, voice even deeper than usual. Dean could feel himself blush. He bent his head down into the space that felt like it was made for him between Cas' shoulder blades.

 "Mornin', Cas." This time, he did sneak a kiss to the muscles that were curling slowly under his breath. He caressed the place where belly joined hip. Cas gasped and arched his back. Dean gripped him tighter and ground into him slowly. His other hand stroked Cas' neck, and he reached up to whisper in the ear of... Whatever it was that Cas was to him. (Boyfriend? It had felt really good to say it yesterday. They could discuss that later, because right now, they were far too busy to have any kind of Talk.) "Tell me what you want."

 "You. I want you." Cas was determined, as ever. His ass was ever more insistently rubbing against Dean's dick. Dean chuckled, and dragged his thumb down the crack.

 "No lube. We've got time. We'll do it later. When we get to the bunker, I'm gonna fuck you so good. You're gonna scream my name until people hear it in Nebraska." He licked his hand and moved it to the front, just holding on to Cas' erection with his fingertips. It felt odd, stroking someone else's dick, but it was really not so different from his own. "Any other requests?" He made a fist and squeezed, thumb stroking the head, and Cas bucked into his hand.

 "Dean, I... Ah..."

 "Not used to those human senses yet, Cas? Don't worry, we'll take it slow. I'll show you everything I know." He sped up, and it didn't take long until Cas was coming. White drops of cum splattered his chest, and he laid on his back, exhausted. Cas reached up for Dean's face, and pulled him down into a sloppy kiss. Dean got up and straddled Cas, who gripped his cock, trying to return the favor. Dean's own hand closed firmly around Cas', and with both their hands working him, he came embarrassingly fast, chanting his lover's name.

 Someone knocked on the wall from the other side. "Told you I didn't want to hear it," Sam's muffled voice shouted from the next room.

 "Sucks to be you," Dean yelled back. "We're gonna fuck all over the bunker when we get home."

 "Jerk!" Dean collapsed in giggles on Cas' chest. Oh, man, this was going to be so great. Several years' worth of tension seemed to just roll off his shoulders at once. Cas was giggling, too, a sound unlike anything he had ever heard before.

 "Maybe we waited too long to do that," Dean said.

 Cas kissed him again, eagerly. "It's been a long time coming, but I think this was just the right time for us."


End file.
